


Harry Potter and the League of Evol Exes

by Cleo_Jay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (2010)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, OOC crackiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-12
Updated: 2013-03-12
Packaged: 2018-02-14 21:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2204295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cleo_Jay/pseuds/Cleo_Jay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In order to date Draco and become his boyfriend, Harry must "defeat" Draco's seven evil exes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry Potter and the League of Evol Exes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Bottom_Draco Adaptations Fest on LJ in 2013. Eternal thanks must go to my lovely betas, dysonrules and byaghro, who assisted a desperate woman in keeping her sanity (or what she had left of it, anyway)! This is set post-Hogwarts in an EWE world where no-one I like dies. :D I've stolen a couple of my favourite lines wholesale from the movie - hopefully Edgar Wright considers imitation the sincerest form of flattery. Also, I invented a new game for narrative purposes: Quadri-Quidditch has 4 players per team (Chaser, Seeker, Beater, Keeper) and 4 balls, so during a game there are 8 players and 8 balls on the pitch all at once (2 Snitches, 2 Quaffles and 4 Bludgers) to really test their skills. In my head, it's all rather brutal and fast-paced. *hand waves* I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. I also do not own the Scott Pilgrim series, its characters or any dialogue. All original lines belong to Bryan Lee O'Malley, ONI Press, Edgar Wright, Big Talk Films and other relevant parties. This story is purely for entertainment purposes - no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

  
**_Not so long ago_ **

**_In the mystical city_ **

**_Of London, England_ **

**_Harry Potter was being stalked by his best friend’s little sister…_ **  


“Is it true you’re dating Ginny Weasley?” Luna Lovegood asked serenely, while fastening her left shin pad.

“You’re seeing Ginny?! Again?!” Terry Boot looked like he wanted to punch something. Preferably Harry’s face.

“No!! No. Umm…not exactly?” Harry cringed as he received incredulous looks from most of his teammates.

“How can you ‘not exactly’ be dating someone?” queried Dean Thomas sardonically.

“I don’t know. It’s not like I asked her out or anything. She just keeps…showing up everywhere. She was outside the flat when I got home the other day, just…waiting. I feel a bit bad for her; I don’t think she knows what to do with herself now that she’s finished Hogwarts. And I don’t want to upset her and get Molly on my case again. So, I just…let her hang out.” Harry shrugged.

“You are pathetic.”

“Thanks for the support, Terry,” Harry responded, checking the alignment of twigs on his broom. “How did you hear about it anyway, Luna?”

“Oh, Hermione told me – she was telling me that she was probably going to need to see a Healer soon, as all the eye-rolling she was having to do was going to cause permanent damage. Plus, she needed to bitch about you to someone.”

“Nice. I have such great best friends.”

“Considering she’s letting you stay in her one-bedroom flat rent-free, and is having to deal with your apathetic emo-shit on a daily basis, I’d say that she deserves an award, actually,” muttered Terry.

Harry glared in response.

“Speaking of best friends, what does Ron have to say about your new-old stalker girlfriend?” asked Neville, as he dragged the Bludger box out of a storage cupboard.

“I…uh,” Harry coughed awkwardly. “I haven’t actually let him know yet. I was kind of hoping Ginny would give up before I had to say anything.”

“Coward,” Terry coughed.

Harry clenched his fists.

“Sorry to interrupt the testosterone tournament, gentlemen, but could we actually get onto the field for practice soon? I have a dirigible plum harvest to get back to, and they’re best plucked before nightfall,” Luna said as she swung her Beater’s bat slightly threateningly.

Harry and Terry looked immediately contrite and the four of them quickly picked up their brooms and exited the changing room. Neville followed with the Quaffle, Bludgers and Snitch.

“Harry!! WOOHOO! GO, WILDCATS!!” came a scream from the mostly empty stands.

Dean turned to Harry. “You invited her to practice?!”

“No! I told you, she just keeps showing up! I have no idea how she knows where I’m going to be all the time!”

“Tracking charm?” Neville suggested.

“No, Hermione checked for me. Said I was being paranoid.”

“On your brooms, boys! Less gossip, more Quidditch!” Luna slapped her bat into her palm authoritatively. Her boys meekly obeyed.

  
**********

“Merlin, Harry!!! You guys are A-MAZING!!! I nearly fainted when you caught the Snitch that third time – SO COOL! The Whirling Wildcats are going to win the Quadri-Quidditch Competition for sure!” Ginny barely paused for breath as she threw herself bodily at Harry as he emerged from the locker room.

“Ermm…thanks, Gin,” Harry said awkwardly as he attempted to disentangle her arms from around his neck and her legs from around his waist simultaneously.

“I’m going to come to EVERY practice so that I can cheer you on. Maybe I could be your cheerleader. Or a mascot. But only if I can wear a cute costume. Not some stupid animal thing. Maybe I’ll make some t-shirts.”

“Gin…” Harry tried to interrupt.

“And badges! Everyone likes badges. You guys really need to get some merchandise sorted. You’re going to be FAMOUS when you win! And then you’ll be on the England Under-21s Squad. And then you’ll be on the national team. And then you’ll be an International Quidditch Player! Like Cho Chang!”

“Let’s not talk about Cho Chang.”

“But she’s so COOL!”

“And a bitch,” Harry said under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I like badges. That’s a good idea, Ginny,” interrupted Dean.

“Thanks, Dean.” Ginny smiled coyly before turning back to Harry. “Will you play Seeker-on-Seeker with me?”

“Er, I kind of want to get home…”

“Please? Pretty please?” Ginny’s lower lip started to tremble.

“Ok! Ok. Let me just…go get changed again.” Harry sighed.

“Bye, Harry!” chorused his traitor teammates as they abandoned him by Apparating swiftly away, Terry making sure to wave sarcastically before he disappeared.

  
**********

“So, how was cradle-snatching today? Fruitful?” Hermione asked without looking up from her textbook.

Harry looked harassed as he slung his kitbag in the corner, narrowly avoiding a teetering pile of books. “I’m not cradle-snatching! Even if I was interested, Ginny’s only a year younger than us. And how do you even know I saw her today?”

“Luna fire-called as soon as she got in from practice to let me know you were playing Seeker-on-Seeker with her.” Hermione frowned as she looked up at him. “Which I sincerely hope was not a euphemism.”

“No,” Harry ground out.

“Well, you’re hardly discouraging her infatuation or whatever-this-is by granting her one-on-one time, are you?”

“She was going to cry, ‘Mione! You know I can’t deal with girls crying!”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “You can’t deal with girls, period. That’s why you jumped the fence to cockland, if I recall correctly.”

Harry looked pained. “Please don’t call it that. I start imagining a phallic theme park every time you do.”

“Cockland – the ride of your life.” Hermione snorted with laughter.

Harry collapsed into a chair and thumped his head on the table in despair. “What am I going to do, ‘Mione?”

“Tell Ron before he hears it from someone else, for a start,” she responded acerbically.

“I can’t!” Harry wailed.

“Stop being a drama queen. If you explain, he’ll be fine about it. He’s known you since you were eleven – it’s not like he’s unprepared for you being an idiot.”

“You are such a boost to my ego.”

Hermione laughed. “Your ego hardly needs boosting, Harry. It’s my responsibility as The Best Friend to point out when you’re being a dick. Now, tell Ron before I do.”

“I’ll just give it another week. Maybe she’ll have fixated on someone else by then?”

Hermione rolled her eyes before refocusing on her book as Harry continued to thump his head softly against the table.

“HARRY JAMES POTTER!!!”

Harry bolted upright and whirled towards the fireplace where Ron’s angry visage appeared to be spitting sparks onto the carpet amongst the flickering green flames.

“Ron!” He attempted to look casually innocent. Hermione rolled her eyes again.

“What the hell is this about you seeing my sister again?! I thought you’d sworn off birds?”

“How did you even…?”

“Hermione sent me a Patronus a minute ago.”

“What?” Harry turned back to Hermione, who was now smugly twirling her wand. “I didn’t even see you cast anything!”

“And _that_ is why I’m the smart one.”

“HARRY! Back to the point! What are you doing with Ginny?!”

“I’m not doing anything with her! She’s just…following me around a bit. And I’m letting her.”

“Oh, Merlin! This is going to be like Second Year, isn’t it? Ginny following us around like a crup and embarrassing valentines and disembodied voices and basilisks!”

“And you call me a drama queen,” Harry murmured to Hermione, who grinned.

“Harry, mate…please tell me I’m not going to have to explain to my mum that you may be a future son-in-law after all? She was devastated last time and I’m not sure how she’ll react if I tell her you changed your mind!”

“Ron,” Harry said patiently, “do you remember the conversation? The long, long, near-eternal conversation we had where I explained that I’d realized that I actually liked men not women but that didn’t meant that I had ever lusted after your freckled arse? Do you remember that one?”

Ron looked suspicious. “Yeeeeeessss?”

“My sexual preferences have not suddenly changed because Ginny would be an easier option than my admittedly pathetic love life!” Harry yelled in frustration.

Ron scowled fiercely. “Are you calling my sister easy?!”

Harry collapsed into his chair again, head in hands. “Oh dear Merlin! ‘Mione, you deal with him – I give up!”

  
**********

“Why are we going to this party again?” Harry asked miserably.

“Because Dean is trying to get back in Seamus’ pants,” Terry sing-songed.

“I am not! We’re just friends!”

“With benefits,” Neville snickered.

“Et tu, Nev?” Dean looked wounded.

“Sorry, Dean. But you’ve got to admit, you do tend to get a little…handsy with him.”

“It’s called being friendly!”

“Your ‘friendly’ would get you arrested if you tried it on someone else, Dean,” Terry pointed out. Dean just looked mulish and bounded up the steps ahead of them. They followed him into the party and Harry was unsurprised to be virtually abandoned the second they were through the door. Neville was the only one who stuck with him.

“Beer?”

“Beer,” Neville nodded, following Harry to the kitchen.

  
**********

An hour later and Harry was utterly bored and contemplating leaving as he drained his third cup of beer.

“This sucks.”

“Sucks,” Neville agreed, looking a little worse for wear.

“I’m bored.”

“Bored,” Neville slurred.

“I’m going to pee to try and kill some time until it’s polite to leave.” Harry made for the stairs.

“I need to pee,” Neville mumbled plaintively, before slumping against the wall in a doze.

  
**********

On his way back from the bathroom, Harry bumped into Oliver Wood.

“Harry! How’re you doing? Heard you were trying out for the Quadri-Quidditch?”

“Yeah, Luna put together a pretty good team. She’s pretty persuasive.”

“Luna? Lovegood? I don’t remember her playing at school.”

“Nah, but turns out she’s got a pretty mean swing – knocked Terry Boot right off his broom with a Bludger at our first practice. Mind you, he was being a cocky bastard so she probably did it on purpose,” Harry laughed.

“She’s the Beater? Terry was a decent Keeper for Ravenclaw. And you’re Seeker. So who’s your Chaser?” Oliver looked curious.

“Dean Thomas.”

“Huh. You’re right, that does sound like a good team. You’ll need to be though – Quadri-Quidditch is even more brutal than normal Quidditch. Four players per team and eight balls on the pitch – you’ll be lucky if nothing’s broken by the end of the competition!”

“True. But the reward is worth it if we win – automatic inclusion in the Under-21 squad and consideration for the national team? That’s got to be worth a few broken bones, right?” Harry grinned and Oliver laughed and thumped him on the back in agreement.

“So, what have you been up toooo…?” Harry trailed off as a shock of vibrant pink caught his eye. He followed its owner as broad shoulders, slim hips and a truly fantastic arse in tight jeans passed him by.

“Harry? Harry!” Oliver snapped his fingers in front of Harry’s face and he startled. “You were drooling, mate.”

“Who the hell is that…vision?!”

Oliver turned to look. “Who?”

“Pink hair, gorgeous, my new boyfriend.” Harry sighed in awe.

Oliver cracked up laughing. “You…” he struggled to regain composure long enough to speak. “Do you mean Malfoy?!”

“What?!” Harry said in shock, then saw Pink Hair turn and instantly recognized that sharp profile. “Shit! What’s he doing here?”

“Heard he just returned from France, came out of a bad relationship and took an apprenticeship with Hylas Jigger.”

“I’m going to go and talk to him.”

“Uh, that might not be a good idea, Harry. Charlie Weasley tried to chat him up at the pub on Saturday – nearly had his balls hexed off.”

“It’ll be fine, he doesn’t really know Charlie.”

“Yeah, and he doesn’t _like_ you…” Oliver called after Harry’s retreating back. “Shit, this is not going to end well.”

  
**********

“Potter, are you somehow attempting to be subtle by sidling up to me like that?”

Harry swallowed nervously and gave a winning smile. “Draco! How lovely to see you! I heard you just got back from France.”

“That’s correct, Potter, well done.”

“Umm…I like your hair! Very…pink!” Harry blurted out, before mentally facepalming.

“Good to see that your social skills have improved while I’ve been away. Or not, as the case may be.”

“And you have the most amazing arse.”

There was a brief stunned silence.

“Well, as delightful as this has been, I do believe I have somewhere else to be. Far away.”

Harry watched mournfully as Draco and his beautiful behind walked out of the door, making a mental note to sew his mouth shut before any future social gatherings.

  
**********

“You won’t _believe_ who’s back in London!” Harry cried out as he collapsed onto the sole bed in their flat.

“Hermione, get your BFF to shut up before I strangle him. I have a 7am meeting,” mumbled Padma sleepily, turning away.

“Sorry, beautiful.” Hermione shuffled closer to Harry’s side of the bed. “Harry, whisper your news or I will help Padma strangle you.”

“Draco Malfoy,” Harry whispered. “He’s back from France and has pink hair and a truly outstanding bottom. I don’t remember his bum being that luscious and curvy when he was sat on a broom during matches. I want him to have my adopted babies.”

Hermione grinned, “Does that mean we have to stop sleeping together?”

“Firstly, ewww. Secondly, do you see another bed anywhere?”

“Huh, yeah. You are totally going to be my bitch forever.”

Harry poked out his tongue.

  
**********

Early the next morning, Harry resolutely ignored the Sapphic noises going on behind him as Hermione and Padma gave each other an enthusiastic goodbye, involving fewer and fewer items of clothing the longer it went on. He was putting the final touches to his urgent potion order requiring immediate delivery in person, as he addressed it carefully to Slug and Jigger’s Apothecary. He called over Hermione’s tawny owl, Edessa, and handed over the letter and a treat before watching her fly swiftly into the sky.

“Please tell me you’re not going to sit there and wait for that delivery?” Hermione asked exasperatedly.

Harry turned to her, then quickly turned away as the couple were still readjusting their clothing. “Yep!” he said brightly.

“Harry, it doesn’t even work like that!”

There was a knock at the door.

Harry gave Hermione a smug look. “You were saying?”

He flung open the door before she could respond and gazed in delight at his fuchsia-flavoured delivery. Draco rolled his eyes.

“Potter. I should have known. No wonder they were in a tizzy and sent me out like a common errand boy.”

“Hi, Draco!” Harry leaned against the doorjamb and continued to ogle his former opponent idiotically.

“Sign here so I can leave and actually do something productive with my day.”

“No.”

“What? What do you mean no? That’s not how this goes, Potter!”

“If I sign, you’ll leave.”

“Yes, that is commonly how deliveries work.”

“I don’t want you to leave. I want you to hang out with me.”

“I have a job, Potter, unlike some layabouts one could mention.”

“Please?”

“Look, if I agree to meet up with you later – _after_ work – will you sign for the damn package?”

“Absolutely!” Harry grabbed the parchment and quickly signed his name. “So, how about seven o’clock at the Three Broomsticks?”

“Fine.” Draco handed over the parcel and Apparated away.

“I can’t believe that _actually_ worked,” said Hermione, as Padma stood next to her, mouth open in shock.

Harry beamed.

  
**********

“You’re actually here!” Harry enthused, as he jogged through the snow to Draco’s waiting figure.

“Yes, well, punctuality is good manners. Not that you’d know.” Draco shivered in response.

“Sorry. I, uh…sorry. Had a hair…thing.”

Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry’s usual bird nest of a hairstyle and decided not to ask. Harry blushed.

“Well, Potter? What is the plan for this evening? I assume it is not simply to freeze to death?”

“Uh, no, Umm…I thought we could have dinner then a bit of a walk in the snow. It’s so pretty around here.”

“You want to have dinner.”

“Yeeeesss?”

“In here?”

Harry nodded, “Is that okay?”

“Besides the fact that the last time I was in the Three Broomsticks there was THAT incident involving certain Unforgiveable Curses and I now have a lifetime ban? Not to mention the evil eye I’m already receiving from Madam Rosmerta just for daring to darken her doorstep? Excellent plan, Potter.”

“Shit! I’d forgotten! I’m sorry!”

Draco manfully resisted yet another eyeroll, “Any other suggestions?”

“I could grab us something to takeaway and then we can just walk?” Harry offered meekly, kicking himself for starting this date off on completely the wrong foot. If a coerced date could be started on the right foot anyway, that is.

“Fine. And firewhiskey too, please – I need something to warm me up.”

Harry opened his mouth to make a slightly inappropriate offer of how they could warm up, but was glared into submission by Draco.

“Firewhiskey, coming right up!”

  
**********

“I’m assuming your date was a success considering it’s ten o’clock in the morning?”

“It was _perfect_ ,” Harry responded dreamily as he slumped into a chair.

“I’ve no doubt. Especially if you got your end away already,” Hermione said tartly.

“We didn’t sleep together! Well, we did…but we didn’t have sex. We talked all night and made out and then Draco invited me back to his and we made out some more and then we snuggled all night. He’s coming to the first round of the Quadri-Quidditch tonight. It was _perfect_. He’s perfect. We fit together…”

“Perfectly – yes, I get the gist, you moonstruck idiot.” Hermione looked highly amused. “An owl came for you by the way, didn’t recognize the bird.”

“Huh.” Harry frowned. Most of his post was scanned by the Ministry of Magic, following one too many incidents with lust-potion-laced letters and Harry subsequently developing a slight resistance to bezoars. Unfamiliar owls were pretty rare as a result. He picked up the parchment and checked out the intricate wax seal, which depicted seven stars surrounding a shield bearing the characters L.E.E. Shrugging, he opened it and skim-read the contents.

“…you may remember me from Hogwarts…yadda, yadda, yadda…prove your worth…duel…blah, blah, blah…death or dismemberment…the League,” Harry mumbled to himself. “Hey, Hermione? Do you remember someone from Hogwarts called Astoria Greengrass?”

“Vaguely. Daphne’s little sister. Think she was a couple of years below us. Why?”

“Think she’s organizing some sort of school reunion or something. Who’s Daphne?”

“Harry, honestly. You went to school with her for six years – she was in our year in Slytherin.”

“I only really remember Draco, Crabbe and Goyle from Slytherin.” Harry shrugged.

“I bet you do,” Hermione smirked back.

  
**********

“Ron. Lavender,” Hermione nodded in greeting with a wink for Ron’s girlfriend, Lavender, who blushed fetchingly.

“’Mione. How’d you reckon they’ll do?” Ron asked as Hermione took a seat in the stands next to them, taking a swig of his butterbeer.

“Oh, they’ll get through easily. The Thumping Thestrals only got this far because they’ve got Millicent Bulstrode as a Beater and she scares the crap out of most people. I’m more interested in the audience.”

“Huh?”

“Your sister is here, Ronald.”

“And?”

“And she’s decked out in head-to-toe homemade Wildcats merchandise and squealing like a first year every time Harry even looks like he might fly within a hundred yards.”

“Aaaaannnnd?” Ron looked slightly embarrassed by his sister screeching like a tween at a Whomping Willows concert.

“And Harry invited his new baby-daddy, Draco Malfoy, to attend this evening. This is going to be _entertaining_.”

“Malfoy, what? No, you know what, I don’t want to know. I swear, I know you say us guys tend to think with our cocks but Harry’s downstairs-brain is seriously messed up.”

“Truth, sister.”

“Don’t call me sister! I only cross-dressed that one time! And it was at your request!”

Hermione raised a sardonic eyebrow before nudging Ron pointedly with her elbow and nodded in the direction of a head of pink hair bobbing up the stands towards them.

“Granger. Weaselbee. Other assorted Gryffindors.” Draco bowed politely in greeting as he took a seat on the other side of Ron.

“Malfoy,” Ron acknowledged. “Nice dye job.”

“What are _you_ doing here?” Ginny challenged shrilly.

“Potter invited me, Weaslette. What is that monstrosity you’re wearing? Did you mug a poor quality Quidditch vendor?”

“I _made_ it!” Ginny responded angrily. Hermione sat back comfortably to watch the fireworks.

  
**********

“Crap! Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap! Luna, we need to start the game _now_!”

“What? Harry, it’s starting in five minutes anyw…”

“Ginny and Draco are talking!!!! I need them to stop, before my life is no longer worth living!”

“Sheesh, Hermione’s right, you really are a drama queen.”

“Luna!!!!”

  
**********

“Well, that was an interesting game, wasn’t it?” Ron observed, as he watched the Thestrals team limp off the pitch, surrounding their Keeper who was being carried off on a stretcher.

“Uh-huh,” Draco agreed vaguely. He appeared to be watching Harry closely with slightly glazed eyes.

Before the Wildcats could follow their opponents off the field, a commotion at the main entrance caught everyone’s attention.

“HARRY POTTER! I AM HERE FOR OUR DUEL!” bellowed a surprisingly delicate-looking young lady with honey-coloured hair.

“Our…what?” Harry said in confusion.

“Our duel!” When Harry continued to look confused, she looked put out. “Didn’t you get my owl? I’m Astoria Greengrass.”

“Oh, I thought that was for some sort of reunion? I skimmed it, to be honest.”

“You will pay for your extremely poor manners! Skim-reading, seriously?! When I went to the effort of warning you that you would have to fight for the hand of Draco Malfoy. The League will make you regret your insolence.”

Everyone turned to look at Draco, whose cheeks warmed to match his hair. “What?! It’s not like any of this is my idea!”

Astoria huffed, “Potter! Are we going to get on with this or not? You have six other exes to fight after me.”

“Six other…? You dated seven people?! You dated _girls_?!?!” Harry said accusingly to Draco.

“We were all young and wanting to experiment once. I fail to see how this is a big deal.”

“Apart from the _dueling your exes_ part, I presume?!” Harry looked hurt when Draco just shrugged.

“Potter, come on, I don’t have all day. My mother’s hosting a ball this evening and I’m meant to be part of the receiving line. Unless you wish to forfeit dating Draco?”

“No! Of course not!” Harry blurted. Draco looked immensely pleased.

“Right, then!” said Astoria, and immediately cast a fireball at Harry’s face.

  
**********

“Evil exes, huh?” queried Hermione.

Draco shrugged. “Not everyone can stay friends with their exes after a breakup, Granger.”

Hermione glanced at Ron, who was alternately swigging more of his butterbeer and shouting increasingly unhelpful suggestions down to where Harry was shielding against various hexes. She smiled.

  
**********

“Well, that was an interesting duel, wasn’t it?” Ron commented, watching as Astoria was carted off in a Full Body-Bind. “Thought Harry was going to fluff it up, what with the whole fighting a girl thing. Good thing he got the practice in with Hermione, huh?”

“It’s certainly been enlightening, Weaselbee. I’m going to go – tell Granger and her girlfriend goodbye from me, please?” Draco said as he left, sneering at Ginny’s death-glare.

“Girlfriend?” Ron said in confusion, turning to see Hermione performing an oral excavation of Lavender’s tonsils. “HERMIONE! NOT AGAIN!”

  
**********

“Well done on the game and the duel today.”

“Thanks…” Harry started to respond with a smile before he was cut off.

“You need to talk to Ginny.”

“What?”

“Harry,” Hermione sighed. “I love you but you are the densest person on this planet. If not for yourself and your potential relationship with Draco, you need to talk to her for the sake of your friendship with Ginny.”

“But I haven’t done anything!” Harry looked wounded.

“Maybe not, but can you really in good conscience allow her to continue humiliating herself like this? She had Wildcats knickers on, Harry…and she showed them to random people in the crowd! While growling like a ‘wildcat’!”

“That’s hardly my fault!” Harry pouted.

“She has her own reasons for acting this way, I’m sure, but for the sake of your friendship you need to stop her fixating on you before this gets out of hand. Anymore out of hand than flashing her underwear to strangers, I mean.”

“But…”

“Talk to her, or I talk to Molly.”

“But talking to girls is hard!” Harry whined. Hermione simply smacked him upside the head in response.

  
**********

“How’d it go?”

“How’d you think it went? She looked like I’d just punched her in the face. She nearly cried. _I_ nearly cried. And if my balls get hexed off by Molly Weasley tomorrow, I’m blaming you.”

“Fair enough,” shrugged Hermione. “Now why are you fiddling with your hair? And why are there clothes strewn everywhere?”

“Draco’s coming ‘round. I’m cooking him dinner.”

“Is that what that burning smell is?”

“Shit!”

Harry rushed into the kitchen as a knock came at the door, so Hermione went to open it.

“Draco, welcome to my nightmare.”

“Granger.”

“If you’re going to be seeing Harry you may as well call me Hermione.”

“Thank you, Hermione.” Draco smiled and Hermione could kind of see what Harry was mooning over, in an abstract sort of way.

“I’ll be out of your way shortly. They’re filming some magi-movie in Diagon Alley, so I’m going to go along and watch.”

“Hi, Drac…you dyed your hair!” Harry yelped as he came in from the kitchen, trailing smoke, and caught sight of aquamarine tresses.

“Very observant, Potter. I usually change it every few weeks.” Harry gulped and Draco frowned. “May I use your bathroom?” he directed at Hermione.

“Sure, it’s on the right.”

Draco nodded and went off.

“He _dyed his hair_ , ‘Mione! What am I going to do?!”

“Do you not like blue?”

“That’s not the point! It shows that he’s fickle and unable to commit!”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“He can’t even _pick a hair colour and stick with it_! I’m going to get dumped within the week!”

Hermione snorted, “You are if you keep acting like this, that’s for sure. I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. Try not to get any stains on the sheets – that’s my bed too.”

  
**********

“Sorry about dinner,” Harry muttered as they walked.

“I didn’t actually know you could burn salad. I feel like that’s an achievement in itself,” Draco responded teasingly.

Harry looked embarrassed so Draco grabbed his hand and entangled their fingers. “The garlic bread was very tasty, even if I could have done without all the carbs.”

“Huh?”

“Carbs, Harry. You know, carbohydrates? Too much of them and you’ll put on weight.”

“Garlic bread makes you fat??!” Harry looked horrified, and like he was revising his current diet in his head.

Draco chuckled. “Do you know what magi-movie it is that they’re filming?” he asked as they neared the production end of Diagon Alley.

“Dunno. Some action movie, I think. This idiot jock turned actor that we used to go to school with. Always saves the day with his flying skills.” Harry snorted. “As if he ever had any.”

Draco paled as they sidled up next to Hermione.

“Cormac! You’re needed back on set,” yelled a man that appeared to be the Director, if the ridiculous baseball cap was any indication.

“Cormac McLaggen?” Draco asked faintly.

“Yep,” said Hermione. “The Jerkface himself. If I’d known it was a McLaggen movie they were filming, I wouldn’t have bothered coming.”

“Harry, I think we should leave,” whispered Draco urgently.

“What? Why? I know he’s a prat but we just got h…”

“POTTER!! I’m going to kick your arse and then hand it to you!!!” Cormac roared from across the set.

Draco hid his face in his hands as Harry turned to him incredulously. “You dated _McLaggen_?! That’s worse than dating _girls_!!!”

Before Draco could respond, Harry was pulled around by the shoulder and punched hard in the face, falling to the ground.

“’Sup, Draco. How _you_ doing?” McLaggen growled flirtatiously. Harry used his position on the floor to his advantage and kicked his opponent in the groin.

Hermione winced. “That’s not very sportsmanlike, Harry.”

  
**********

“I sometimes worry about the education level at Hogwarts, as several former students seem to lack even basic intelligence. I can’t believe he fell for a Quidditch grudge match – he tried out for your _team_ at school, he knows how good you are,” Hermione stated in exasperation.

Harry winced in agreement, holding an ice pack to his face gingerly.

“And I can’t believe Draco bailed on you!” she continued indignantly.

Harry grunted despondently. Hermione sighed.

“I think you’re going to have to step up your game, Harry. It’s all well and good fighting all these exes, but you need to show him you’re serious about him, too.” Harry looked blank. “You need to break out the ‘L’ word.”

Harry looked confused. “Lesbian?” he ventured.

Hermione looked like she’d hit him if he wasn’t already bruised like a peach.

“The _other_ ‘L’ word, Harry,” she said in exasperation.

“Lesbians?” he questioned cautiously. Hermione facepalmed.

  
**********

The next day Harry was walking to practice when he nearly got knocked on his arse by a jinx rushing past him. He lashed out as he turned and then looked horrified as he realized his hand had just bounced off the substantial rack of none other than Pansy Parkinson. Who was wearing all black, a studded collar and a menacing expression.

“You just hit me in the boob! Prepare to die, _obviously_! But not right now. Now I need to go and replace the underwiring in my bra as you _just broke it_ , you twat!!”

She then Apparated away looking uncomfortable.

Harry felt like his week could not get any weirder.

  
**********

He really needed to learn to not say things like that, not even in his head (especially not in his head), as they always came back to bite him on the arse.

Harry was catching up with Seamus over coffee, who’d decided to berate him about his past relationships (“And what about Terry?” “What about Terry, we’re good friends, that all ended amicably!” “Terry would feed you poison and laugh over your convulsing body if he thought he could get away with it.” “Thanks for the graphic image, Seamus. I am never accepting food or drink from Terry ever again.”), when he turned and bumped into Cho Chang, Seeker for the Montrose Magpies and his Dreaded Ex.

“Harry! Darling! How fabulous to see you!” she exclaimed loudly as she air-kissed him on both cheeks.

“Cho.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, baby! You know you love me! And all that silly stuff is in the past, right?” Cho waved her hands airily.

“You mean the silly stuff like cheating on me repeatedly? And then dumping me when I found out? That stuff?” Harry ground out.

“Water under the bridge, darling! Anyway, I heard that you’re actually doing something with your life finally and your little Quadri-Quidditch team is actually making an impression! All very surprising! So I thought I’d throw you a bone and let you and your little friends do a half-time show at the Magpies next match.”

“I don’t thin…”

“Luna’s agreed to it for you all, signed an agreement and everything, so there’s no changing your tiny little minds. You can thank me later!” she said breezily and air-kissed him again before striding out of the coffee shop looking very pleased with herself.

  
**********

After the Magpies match that Saturday and their successful half-time performance, Harry found himself sandwiched between Luna and Draco, awkwardly glaring across at Cho and her teammate/current sex toy, Zacharias Smith, who was stroking her arm in what he clearly thought was a sexy way. Ginny and Dean, who were suddenly looking very cosy together, were sitting in an armchair, Ginny perched on Dean’s lap and gazing rapturously at Cho. Terry and Neville both perched on arms of the sofa uneasily.

“Harry, darling,”

“Cho.” Harry nodded.

“Draco.”

“Smith,” Draco acknowledged, looking bored.

Harry looked pained. “Please tell me you haven’t dated this git?”

“I may have done. Do you have a problem with Hufflepuffs now?”

“Hufflepuffs, no. This traitorous, blood-sucking worm? Yes.”

“Harry, Harry, Harry,” Smith said with smug condescension. “That’s all behind me now. I went to Hufflepuff Academy and follow the way of light.”

“So you have Puff Powers?!” Ginny demanded in excitement.

“Yes,” Smith affirmed. “Very advanced Puff Powers. I could stop your heart beating with my mind. If I wanted to, of course.”

Ginny looked slightly concerned.

“How does that work then?” Dean asked skeptically.

“You know how they say you only use 10% of your brain?” Dean nodded. “The other 90% is filled with negativity and mean thoughts that restricts your magical core. By following the Hufflepuff way, we are able to access 100% of our brain and 100% of our magic. It makes me smarter and more magically powerful than everyone else.”

Harry scoffed. Draco just looked at the ceiling as if he was praying for delivery from the whole situation.

“You disbelieve me, Potter?”

“Pretty much, yeah. I think you’re full of shit.”

“Is the ‘Chosen One’ intimidated by the competition?” Smith sneered.

“No. I just don’t believe that you have _Puff Powers_. Which, by the way, is a totally ridiculous name. Makes me think of a kids’ cartoon.”

Ginny started laughing, “Power…puff…girls…” she gasped in between giggles, oblivious to Smith’s face darkening into a truly malevolent scowl as his blond hair began to crackle and glow. “Does that…make him…Bubbles?” she cackled as she grabbed Dean’s shoulder for balance. The others in the room started to snicker.

“Obnoxious little ginger bitch!” Smith yelled angrily, flipping his hair like he was in a shampoo commercial and narrowing his eyes. A bolt of pink lightning shot from his eyes and hit Ginny square in the face, knocking her off Dean’s lap and onto the floor with a scream.

“Ginny!” Dean and Harry both rose to their feet simultaneously, Dean quickly helping a semi-conscious Ginny to sit up. Dean turned to Harry, face twisted in anger.

“He knocked the freckles off her face, Harry. The _freckles off her face_!”

Harry turned back to Smith, who had sat back down and casually hooked his arm around Cho’s shoulders. “I’m not afraid of hitting a girl. I’m a Quidditch star.”

As Harry moved to step forward, preferably to kick the bastard so hard his balls ended up in the back of his throat, the wall to their right exploded inwards in a shower of brick-dust and debris. Two cardigan-clad figures emerged, coughing slightly with embroidered handkerchiefs over their mouths.

“Halt! Hufflepuff Police” shouted Ernie MacMillan, adjusting his glasses and raising a curiously purple object that looked somewhat like a sink plunger.

“Zacharias Pessimus Smith! You are hereby placed under arrest for grievous violations of the Hufflepuff Code of Honour, section twelve point one, sub-clause two hundred and eighty-nine,” announced Justin Finch-Fletchley self-importantly, brandishing a second purple plunger and futilely attempting to dust off his curly hair.

“What?” Zach whined, “That’s not fair - I only hit one little girl! Surely I get a second chance?”

“Ernie,” prompted Justin.

Ernie flipped open a small, yellow, dragon-scale notebook and recited aloud, “February 28th, kicked a puppy. March 14th, failed to help a grandmother across the road. May 2nd, stole candy from a baby. July 23rd, loosened the top of a salt shaker and gave it to girlfriend to use. August 6th, farted and blamed it on the dog. October 31st, terrified every trick-or-treater that came to the door by threatening to disembowel them.”

“That last one was just a seasonal joke!”

“You held a bloody carving knife to their throats while you made your threats. We are _still_ giving therapy to the traumatised primary school children!” Justin exclaimed.

“And since when is kicking puppies not okay?!”

Ernie ignored him. “Zacharias Pessimus Smith, this is your seventh offence and the rules state that the only possible punishment is removal of your powers.”

“No!” Zach cried, sinking to his knees.

Justin and Ernie both raised their plungers, clicked a button and there was a soft ‘fwuuupp’ noise.

Harry, whose eyes had been screwed shut, opened one. “Is that it?”

“Yep. Nice to see you, Harry! Sorry about the wall and all, you know how it is when you’re in law enforcement!” Ernie said, thumping Harry on the back.

“Tootles!” sang Justin, wiggling his fingers merrily in a little wave, before they both Apparated away leaving everyone in a slight state of shock.

“I can’t believe Puff Powers are pink,” said Terry dazedly.

“I can’t believe they take Puff Powers away just for hitting a bloody Weasley,” Smith muttered morosely.

Harry hexed him unconscious.

  
**********

“I actually don’t mind it. Should be easier choosing makeup and stuff, anyway.”

Ginny had just returned from the bathroom where she’d been admiring the expanse of freckle-free skin that was now her face. Dean was hovering and making motions like he wanted her to sit down before she fell down, which Ginny promptly ignored.

After the randomness that was Harry’s third battle, they’d all decided to head to the after-game party for a pick-me-up. Most of them were downing alcohol like it was going out of fashion.

Harry and Draco, however, were having a _discussion_.

“I’m sincerely beginning to doubt your taste in men. Which is probably working in my favour or you wouldn’t be here right now, but still…have you ever dated anyone who wasn’t clinically insane?”

“Very funny, Potter.”

“Oh, it’s Potter again, is it? And I’m genuinely curious – I want to know how likely it is that I’m going to make it out of this whole thing alive?”

“Everyone has baggage, _Harry_.”

“Not everyone’s baggage tries to kill them though.” Harry grinned and Draco tentatively smiled back, so Harry decided to try his luck and started to lean forward, focus flickering between clear, grey eyes and lovely pink lips. Before he could reach his target however, a leather whip cracked between their faces, smacking down on the bar and nearly taking off Harry’s glasses in the process.

“Oi!” Harry yelped, then yelped again when he turned and came face-to-face with Pansy Parkinson for a second time that week.

“Time’s up, Potty Potter. I have a new bra and I’m not afraid to use it!”

“That doesn’t even make sens…AH!” Harry ducked as the whip sliced mere inches above his head. Draco’s hand snatched the popper from the air and yanked the whip handle out of his ex-girlfriend’s hand.

“Pansy. You’re being melodramatic again. Get lost.”

“Not until I win. If Blaise can’t have you, no-one can – the League has spoken.”

“That is ridiculous. Tell that pretentious arse to come and talk to me himself. Otherwise, we are done here.”

“Is Potter not even able to fight his own battles anymore?” Pansy sneered.

Harry looked offended. “I can fight my own battles finennnyyyggggaaaaahhhh,” he ducked swiftly as another shorter, more deadly whip was pulled out of nowhere and cracked in his direction.

“Potter, you’re not _dancing_ with her. Do something!” Draco exclaimed.

“I don’t think I can hit a girl again. Not after what happened to Ginny earlier.”

“You hit me before!” Pansy cried, whirling the whip above her head for another go.

“That was an accident! I didn’t even know it was you at that point!”

“That makes it even worse! You attack random strangers in the street for no good reason!”

“I see logic has left the building. Again.” Draco rolled his eyes and stepped closer to Harry, maneuvering him out of the line of fire so he could whisper in his ear.

“What?! I can’t do that!” Harry blurted out, blushing brightly.

Draco glared. “If you ever want to get in my pants, you will.”

Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then mumbled something while wending his wand in a tight circle in Pansy’s direction.

“What are you..? Oh. Oh! OH!!! NNGGGHHH! AH! MER-LI-HI-HI-HI-IIIIIIIIN!!!!!!!”

Harry side-eyed Pansy, who was now collapsed in a sweaty, panting heap on the floor. “I feel dirty now, thanks.”

Draco grinned. “You’re welcome. Think about it this way – you beat your opponent, you have getting in my pants still to look forward to, and you just gave a girl an absolutely smashing orgasm without having to actually interact with any girl parts.”

Harry shuddered.

  
**********

“So, do you know who you’re fighting next yet?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Draco said he’d owl me a list as he’s stuck at the apothecary all day.”

“Ooh, get you two, being all domestic and shit.”

“Ron, shouldn’t you be at work?” Harry sighed.

“And miss the excitement?! No way! I’ve hardly seen any of these fights so far, and I missed you making Pansy come in public in the middle of a nightclub. I can only imagine what’ll happen next!”

“Don’t remind me!! She sent me a thank you note _for an orgasm_ , said my spell strength was a real experience and if I wanted to practice I should let her know. I threw up in my mouth a little when I read it.”

“Why do the gay boys get all the stacked straight women throwing themselves at their feet? My spell strength is pretty damn good, if I do say so myself.”

“It sure is, Ron,” smirked Hermione.

“Stop traumatizing the gay man with your hetero flashbacks, people!”

Hermione and Ron both laughed and gave each other secretive little smiles before their attention was caught by a brown owl tapping at the window.

Harry opened it up and offered the bird a treat before carefully detaching the small scroll from its leg and unfurling it. His mouth promptly dropped open.

“Well, who are the final two?!” Hermione demanded.

“Final three, you mean? Harry’s only fought four of them so far.”

“Yes, but unless you know another Blaise, Zabini is _obviously_ the seventh one and mastermind behind this whole league thing.”

“It will be a loss to the whole world if you never reproduce, ‘Mione. You are so bloody smart!”

“Harry? Are you okay? You look a little faint.”

“Weasleys,” Harry said feebly.

Ron frowned. “Yeah, mate – that’s my family. You feeling okay?”

“No. Weasleys.”

“Yeah, we heard you the first time. What does that have to do with anyth…?”

“DRACO SHAGGED FRED AND GEORGE!”

Hermione watched as Ron’s eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed in a dead faint before glancing back up at Harry and asking the vital question. “At the same time?”

  
**********

“No, seriously, do you think it was at the same time? Because I have some wonderful mental images on permanent slideshow in my head at the moment and I want to know if they have a basis in reality.”

“Hermione, I beg of you, please shut up.”

They’d left Ron at the flat, looking green and periodically retching while mumbling about ‘fucking snakes’, while they ventured out to Number 93, Diagon Alley to visit Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes. Now Harry was visibly dawdling outside the front door.

“Harry, stop being a chump. You’ve got to get this over with sooner or later and I _want to know if it was at the same time_!” Hermione declared and forced Harry bodily through the entryway.

“Harry!”

“Our new nemesis!”

“How goes it, my man?”

“And welcome, Lady Granger!”

“Yes, welcome!”

“Why aren’t you hexing me?” Harry asked in confusion.

“Harry, you’re our brother!”

“And financial backer.”

“As if we would listen to a vainglorious Slytherin sociopath over you?!”

“He didn’t offer you enough money then?” Harry deduced, laughing.

“Not a Knut, the tightwad.” Fred said, looking disgruntled.

“Enough chitchat! Let’s get down to the most important thing – did you two shag Malfoy at the same time?”

“Hermione!” cried Harry, at the same time as George said mischievously, “Which Malfoy?”

Harry and Hermione took a moment to digest this truly horrifying thought, both pondering the uses to which Lucius’ pimp cane could be put.

“A gentleman never kisses and tells…” started Fred.

“But if we were to say the word spit-roasting…” continued George.

“LALALALALALALALALALALALA!!!!! I’m not listening!!!” Harry quickly yelled, hands over ears and eyes screwed shut, as if that would somehow undo what had just been said.

“Huh,” said Hermione, a speculative gleam in her eye that boded ill for Harry getting any decent sleep that night without the accompanying buzz of a vibrator.

“Yes, well, if that’s all, we have a business to run -”

“Hired help to molest - ”

“But you can consider us well and truly defeated if it helps, Harry.”

  
**********

“Well, that was anticlimactic.”

“Bet that’s not what Draco said.”

“HERMIONE!”

  
**********

“Potter.”

“Draco!” Harry was delighted to get a surprise fire-call from his boyfriend in the middle of the day. Because he had a _boyfriend_!

“I’m breaking up with you.” Or maybe not so delighted.

“What! Why? I’ve nearly defeated all seven now!”

“I’m getting back with Blaise. He invited me to his club tonight. He’ll treat me right.”

“ _I’ll_ treat you right…” Harry abruptly found himself making declarations to an empty fireplace, as Draco terminated the fire-call as suddenly as it’d begun.

  
**********

“I go to the library for an hour and come back to emo-central. What the hell happened?” Hermione demanded, turning off the radio, which Harry appeared to have charmed to play REM’s ‘Everybody Hurts’ on permanent repeat.

“Draco dumped me. Getting back with Blaise. Never got in his pants. It was the hair dye.” Harry was making even less sense than usual and was resorting to neanderthalic grunts. This was going to require drastic measures if she didn’t want to experience Moping Harry for the next year.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess I can see why. He is better than you, after all. Can probably treat Draco better too.”

Harry looked shocked for all of ten seconds.

“NO, HE IS BLOODY WELL NOT BETTER THAN ME! I WILL TREAT DRACO LIKE A PRINCE WHEN I WIN HIM! SHOWER HIM WITH DINNERS AND FLOWERS AND GIFTS! I WILL _WORSHIP_ THAT ARSE OF HIS FOR HOURS UPON HOURS UNTIL HE CANNOT REMEMBER MAGIC EVEN EXISTS! BETTER THAN ME, MY ARSE!! WHAT SORT OF BEST FRIEND ARE YOU?!!?!” he roared.

“Well, you’d better go and get him back then, hadn’t you?” she responded tartly.

There was a brief pause. “Yeah, I should. Thanks, Hermione – you’re amazing,” Harry said with a sheepish smile.

  
**********

Harry had decided to go all out for Operation Win Draco Back and Kick Blaise’s Arse (his operation naming skills were part of the reason he’d decided against becoming an Auror), so he was wearing leather pants even though they were stupidly hot and a t-shirt so tight that it cut off the circulation to his arms. He’d also dragged all his friends along with him, for moral support or just to have someone there to heckle him. (What? He was used to duelling in front of crowds of Death Eaters. It was no-one’s business but his own if he had, er, ‘performance issues’ without someone there to yell abuse.)

“Please tell me you have a plan?” begged Neville.

“Umm. Go in, yell, kick Blaise’s arse, snog Draco and then drag him home to do filthy, filthy things to him?”

Several of his friends shook their heads in despair.

“I can really see how you’ve thought through all the contingencies here, Harry,” Terry said sarcastically.

Harry flipped him off.

“Hey now! I think past precedent has shown that Harry usually does pretty well when he switches off his brain and flies by the seat of his pants!”

“Er...thanks for the support, Ron. I think.”

“Anytime, Harry!”

“Right then,” Harry squared his shoulders and walked purposefully towards the entrance, his friends following.

  
**********

“Well if it isn’t little Harry Potter! Say hello, Draco.” Blaise hooted arrogantly from his perch high up in the VIP section at the top of a massive flight of black stairs. The lights around them flashed green and silver, catching in Draco’s now verdantly green hair.

“Hello,” Draco said tonelessly. Hermione frowned.

“What do you think of my lovely club, Chosen One? Smashing, isn’t it?”

Harry glanced around at the metal walls and uncomfortable seating. “I think it’s a little vacuous, actually – rather like it’s owner.”

Several of the patrons around them gasped at the insult, clearly worried about what the owner would do in response.

Blaise grinned nastily. “I’ll take your opinion under advisement, Potter, considering how little it’s worth. Isn’t that right, Draco?”

“Yes.”

“Harry,” Hermione hissed urgently. “There’s something wrong with Draco! He’s totally monosyllabic!”

“Maybe he’s just regretting his decision, ‘Mione,” Harry whispered back.

“I think it’s more than that! Harry, he’s acting like someone under an Imperius Curse, his eyes are totally glazed over. You need to help him break it.”

“How?”

“Talk to him. Remind him of how much you love him and all the things he’s missing out on by letting that fucker control him.”

“While right under Zabini’s nose?”

“If you have to, yes! We’ll all try and keep him distracted though. Ron, go and sit on Zabini’s lap and flirt a little.”

“What?!” Ron yelped indignantly.

“Was everyone blind while we were at Hogwarts or something? Blaise used to follow you around with his eyes like he wanted to hump your leg all through fifth and sixth year. Now, go and work that booty, Ronald Bilius Weasley!”

“The things I do for you, Harry. Whoring out my poor heterosexual arse to Slytherins,” Ron huffed, but climbed the stairs dutifully and started chatting up Zabini.

Harry climbed the stairs cautiously to where Draco was sitting, obscured partially by a vanguard of Hermione, Neville and Luna. He glanced briefly upwards to make sure he hadn’t caught Zabini’s attention and had to stifle a laugh at the look of stunned lust on Blaise’s face as Ron _wiggled_ in his lap. He then took a deep breath and proceeded to tell Draco all the things that Hermione had suggested and more besides – all the things he admired about him, the things he loved, and all the things he’d do to Draco if he just had the opportunity.

Draco suddenly yawned and looked sleepily up at his boyfriend. “Do tell me more, Harry.”

Harry looked intrigued. “You just threw off an Imperius Curse at the mention of rimming. I feel like this is something you should be telling me about,” he said with a filthy grin, as Draco flushed in embarrassment.

“We should probably defeat Blaise first,” he responded evasively.

Harry glanced up the stairs, past Luna and Hermione’s heavy petting, to where Ron appeared to be trying to swallow Blaise’s tongue while grinding rhythmically into his lap.

“I think he’s already been conquered actually. Let’s go home.”

  
**_Not so long ago_ **

**_In the mystical city_ **

**_Of London, England_ **

**_Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy fell in love._ **  


  



End file.
